


Shoulder Space

by herbailiwick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amusement Parks, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:17:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1302895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liron_aria prompted: "Sleepy!Sam and amused!Jess, any setting."</p><p>Sam has a little devil on his shoulder, but he has a little angel on his shoulder too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shoulder Space

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Liron_aria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liron_aria/gifts).



"I don't think my stomach's ever gonna be the same, actually," he said with a grin. "No. Go. Go on." He held out his hand for the plate, setting it down in front of him on the white plastic table. 

"You said you never had time for this kind of thing," she reminded. "New opportunity, big 'fuck you' to the old man? You were screaming pretty good on the last ride. I liked it," she teased.

Sam started to retort, then yawned unexpectedly, stifling it with one of those awkward-big hands. 

"Brady again, huh?" She eyed him more seriously. 

"Guilty," he admitted, squinting against the sunlight.

"I'm starting to think he just doesn't wanna be helped, Sam."

"You said that."

"I mean, I understand. Exes are exes. But," she caught herself at the look he gave her, "I have a roller coaster to catch."

"Right. You do."

She bent to kiss him on the cheek. "Be back soon."

"You better."

She was gone. He eyed the rubble of her funnel cake like it might move if he stared long enough. He saw some of the powdered sugar move in the light breeze. The people moved too, bustling at the edges of his table as her leftovers served as centerpiece. The rides ran. The sun shone. 

He tried not to think of Brady, of the awkward chemistry and the cold pizza and the greasy fingertips brushing the back of Sam's hand. He'd pulled away, tried not to blush. 

What had it meant? Brady had broken things off. He'd told Sam he wanted some time to himself. He'd introduced Sam to Jess. Brady's game, which probably did exist, wasn't obvious to Sam, and he didn't want to play into it. He just wanted to make his own way for once. His dad had been a master manipulator, full of secrets, full of judgments of what he thought was best for Sam.

Sam blinked awake at the strong shake of his shoulder. He often fell asleep at the desk at home only to be shaken awake exactly the same. "Baby," he said, turning to see her. 

"Sunscreen?" she waited as he dug it out of his jacket pocket and handed it over. Reapplying, she said, "You look a little pink, Sam. Here." 

She brushed his cheek with the greasy sunscreen, and he was back. He caught her gaze, blinking. Brady's fingers had been cool too, as they'd sat at the busted coffee table they'd broken trying to squish a bug, as they'd sat at the old place they'd shared before he'd moved in with Jess, a place full of really stupid, really memorable memories. 

She patted his cheek and broke the contact. "Do you wanna rest again? You can. I'll watch over you."

"I know," Sam agreed. From the first time at the bar where his drunk friends had been pressuring him and she'd done (awful) karaoke to get him off the hook, he knew she had his back.

She reached for her cake crumbs and the black plastic fork. Offering him a bite he didn't accept, she then encouraged him to rest his head against her. She stroked his hair, and he yawned.

"I know," he repeated tiredly. "You always have."

She hummed in agreement. 

He could almost hear her chewing.


End file.
